


Swan Rink

by MeansToOffend (goodmorning)



Series: 31 in 31: NHL Fairy Tales [28]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Fairy Tale Retellings, M/M, St. Louis Blues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-02
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2019-01-07 22:38:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12241977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodmorning/pseuds/MeansToOffend
Summary: "As the sun sank ever lower and the gold sky faded to blue, the prince reached the frozen pond where the swans had landed, taking aim at the largest. But as the last tiny sliver of the sun disappeared below the horizon, the wind picked up, and magic rippled through the air, and the swans seemed to shrug their shoulders and stood up as men."





	Swan Rink

Once upon a time, there was a prince who thought of nothing but hockey and hunting, and never had time for feelings of romance. Consequently, he was very skilled in both the former, but at times nevertheless felt lonely. It was easy for him to banish these feelings, and to bury himself in his hobbies, but still, he occasionally wondered. Was he missing something by deferring his search for a partner?

The morning of the prince’s birthday dawned clear and cold, and he spent the day amusing himself outside on the ice, pausing only when it grew late, and a feast was laid out. He and his retinue partook, and the prince went back outside for a breath of fresh air. He might then have gone to bed, had he not seen a flock of swans flying into the sunset. They awakened his desire to hunt, so he took his dog and his gun and set out towards the west.

As the sun sank ever lower and the gold sky faded to blue, the prince reached the frozen pond where the swans had landed, taking aim at the largest. But as the last tiny sliver of the sun disappeared below the horizon, the wind picked up, and magic rippled through the air, and the swans seemed to shrug their shoulders and stood up as men.

The largest swan had become the largest man, pale and blond and built. He looked at the prince uncertainly; the prince stood and lowered his gun, extending a hand for the ex-swan to shake. He took it, and they shook, and the prince, on impulse, kissed the back of the man’s hand.

“I am Prince Vladimir, of St. Louis,” he said, smiling, a twinge of interest pulling in his stomach. “But call me Vova.”

“Colton Parayko - my friends call me Colt,” said the man, and smiled shyly back.

The other ex-swans had not been idle during this exchange, and were busily putting on hockey gear. When the prince looked to the pond, he saw that they had already rigged up some nets, and the moon was shining brightly enough to see by clearly.

“Mind if I join you?” he asked.

“We’d be honoured,” Colt replied. “I’m not sure if we have any gear for you, though.”

“I’ll be back in fifteen minutes,” said the prince, and took off towards the castle.

After kenneling his dog and throwing some gear in his hockey bag, the prince returned to the pond in ten minutes. The ex-swans had waited for him, and he was touched by their kindness, for they looked impatient to begin. He resolved, therefore, to make it up to them by playing his very best game.

This he did, and the former swans, though talented, were mostly not quite a match for him - except Colt, who, on defense, could stop him fully half the time - and he passed a very pleasant night playing hockey under the clear night sky.

When morning neared, though, everyone began to sigh, and to glance sideways at Colt, who at last stopped skating, folded the towel with which he had been mopping his face, and turned to Prince Vova. “We’re under a curse,” he said. “When morning comes, we’ll all be swans again.”

“Can I help you break it?” asked the prince.

Colt began to reply, but was interrupted by a swelling of magic and heat on the shoreline, and a patch of snow melted under the feet of a small man heavily cowled in the robes of a sorcerer. “You have no chance,” the man called, “for the curse will only break if one who has never loved before swears to love only Colton forever.” And, with that, he disappeared.

Colton again tried to speak, but only managed “I’m so sorry-” before the golden light of dawn spilled magic over the pond, and his charming and expressive mouth again became the beak of a swan.

Prince Vova spent the next day alternating between sleep and pouting, and forbade his friends from hunting swans in the vicinity. They were barely even able to convince him to eat, but at last they managed only by telling him that a new hockey team would be visiting that night, and he would need his strength to play them.

When he and his friends took the ice, they were met by a short fellow, richly attired. “Commissioner Bettman,” he said, extending a hand.

“Pleased to meet you,” the prince said, and bowed rather than remove his gloves.

But when the other hockey team appeared, he dropped his stick in shock, for they were the men he had played with just the night before, and Colt stood tall among them with a quiet little smile on his face. Prince Vova felt his stomach flip, and realised all at once that he was skate over helmet in love with the guy, and he wanted to shout it to everyone who was present.

But he had a hockey game to win first.

The prince played hard, not only out of a spirit of competition but also, a bit, to impress a certain tall blond on the other team. But as the game went on, he began to become suspicious, for this Colt did not appear to be the same as the one he had been yearning to see again all day. He was far more unruly, less sure on his skates, and some of the words he used were not ones Prince Vova had heard from him before no matter how heated the competition. But it was not until he saw him throwing his face towel into a crumpled heap that the prince was certain his suspicions were correct:

This was not Colt, but an imposter.

So the prince finished the game as quickly as was possible, and rushed to the pond on which he had played the previous night, hoping against hope that Colt and his swan men would be there. When he arrived it was a relief, for they were indeed on the ice, circling under the moonlight. As he approached, they ceased their motion, and parted to allow him through to the centre, where Colt was standing.

Prince Vova knelt, took his hand, and looked up into blue-grey eyes. Gathering all his courage, he took a deep, cold breath, and spoke. “I have never once felt about someone the way I feel about you. Marry me?”

“I will,” said Colt, but his expression was serious. “Are you sure you want a husband who spends half his life as a swan, though?”

“I do. And I will never change my mind. I would not offer you my hand if I did not offer it forever,” the prince replied.

The sun edged over the horizon, light covering the land like melted butter, bringing with it the feel of magic once more. But as it reached the men on the pond and washed over their faces, they remained men, young and strong and skate-clad.

They looked at each other in disbelief, and then in joy, for the curse was broken, and they would never have to go back to being swans again. When the sorcerer appeared before them, they were no longer afraid, for his power over them was no more. They swarmed him, and brought him to where Colt and Prince Vova were standing hand in hand. When they removed his cowl, though, the prince was surprised to see a face he recognised.

“Commissioner?” he asked, but his confusion quickly faded. “Well, for this, you’re banished from the kingdom, and you may never return.”

And, so saying, the prince and his chosen groom led the men who had once been swans to the palace, where they all lived happily forever after.

**Author's Note:**

> \- How exactly does one go about adapting a ballet? I still have no idea.   
> \- The original ending is so sad - but how does the prince not recognise that he's dancing with someone else?   
> \- I know it's kind of casual of me, but Tchaikovsky is among my favourite composers.  
> \- Colton Parayko really did fold a towel during a game.


End file.
